Mirkwood Queen
by chloerumple
Summary: Thranduil meets Legolas' mother. This is the story of how they meet and their courtship. This is just an idea that I had, loosely based on what happens in the movies and book. I apologize for any inaccuracies in terms of the facts of elves, Tolkien literature etc. This is just for fun. I appreciate any constructive criticism. Thanks for reading!
1. Chapter 1

The bells rang out through the halls. They were not the happy victorious bells, but instead merely a quick, single ring. The battle was over. The soldiers had returned.

I took all of my golden hair in my hands and plaited it tightly, out of my face and away from my eyes. Then, I quickly dipped my hands into the basin of water and rubbed them clean with the white soap. I scrapped my nails beneath each other, freeing any dirt that was hiding there. My chest heaved quickly with one deep breath. I was ready.

Hurrying across the room, I met the soldiers at the main entrance of the infirmary hall.

Four elves rushed, each holding one end of makeshift cot created from fabric and branches. Upon the cot laid who I could only recognise as our king.

But he did not appear as the king I caught glimpses of when we happened to pass one another in the hallowed halls of the realm. He wore no crown on this day.

His long hair, lighter gold than mine, nearly white, was matted, tangled and sticking to his forehead with sweat and blood. What was left of his battle amour, an outfit I never seen him in, was dull and dirty, or melted away.

I stared at his face. I had always looked away from that stone cold expression on alabaster skin, carved out cheek bones and strong, yet at the same time, delicate jaw. His dark brow was usually brooding, his green eyes deep and stormy.

But not now. Now half of his face was white a milk, nearly azure beneath the skin, veins in his temple throbbing a deep blue, popping and straining beneath. His eye starred up at the tall ceiling but not really seeing. The blank pupil was tiny, a pin dot, the white of his eye was nearly red. His mouth was open and curved downward, breath quickly pressing in and out.

The other half of his face was completely burned away. From his hair line to the top of his jaw, fire had consumed the skin, muscles, and an entire section of the left cheek, leaving his teeth and inside of his mouth fully exposed. The left eye was completely removed, the blackened socket remained, large and gaping.

The burn continued downwards, softening on his neck to mere redness and then gained strength on his left arm where the skin was black and peeling away, his armour burnt to attachment on his forearm.

"Audriel," the soldier near the king's right shoulder spoke to me, his voice strained and quick, "you must heal our king. The dragon…" There was blood on his worried face.

"I-I've never done anything like this."

"No one else could have any hope of fixing this." He took one hand from the branch and swept it over the king.

"His face is burnt right away…" I entwined my fingers and clenched them together.

"You are the best healer this side of the Misty Mountains. Only Lord Elrond could compete."

"Then perhaps you should be taking him to Lord Elrond."

"There is no time! He is our king. Your mother-"

"I am _not_ my mother! My skills could never match hers." I starred deep into his eyes. "I cannot work miracles on him just because he is our king."

His eyes softened. "Please."

The elf near the king's left foot spoke. "Miss, we haven't time to take him to anyone else, and apart from one other elf, there is no one else to take him to. All I ask," he shot a harsh look at the other elf who had spoken to me, "all _we_ ask, is you try. If only you can keep him alive."

I swallowed and walked from where I stood, to the king's feet. I looked straight on at him. I hunched my shoulders and sighed. "I can only promise you my efforts."

"The best you can do is all we ask."

I nodded. "Bring him to a private room."

They followed me to a few chambers that were held off the hall, leading to where the plants, tools, and medications were stored. I gestured to the first room on the right and the elves carried their king to the edge of the bed.

"Don't put him on the bed yet," I instructed, and then left the room and called for my assistants. Three elves, Meleth, Harn, and Hiril, came rushing to my side.

"The king has been terribly burnt," I told them. "I need the strongest remedies for burns, pain-an aesthesia for certain. Harn," he was one of the few male healers, "I need you to help me lift and place him."

He nodded and the two girls rushed back to mix. I led him to the king's room. At the sight of the king, lying, burnt and barely conscious, Harn's eyes wavered and his skin paled.

I placed a hand on his arm. "If you cannot do this…"

He tightened his jaw. "I will be fine." After pushing a hand through his brown hair, he stepped forward by my side towards the king.

I slapped my hands together and cracked my fingers. "I need to you all to listen carefully," I instructed. "We must move him carefully." I locked eyes on each soldier. I trusted Harn's skills, even when his emotions quivered. The soldiers were no healers. "Burns are the most painful of injuries. He will be in pain when we move him, I want it minimized."

They all nodded at me.

"Now, place the cot on the bed. Good. Now we lift and put him on the bed." I went to the king's head and reached my arms to him. His breath shuddered and his chest heaved beneath the armor. I pressed my hands under the king's head. Slowly gently, I cradled his skull. His breathed sucked deeply, due to pain, I had no doubt. His pain was now in my hands. "I want Harn at his left shoulder, the rest of you each put your hands under him and get ready to lift. Except for you," I pointed to the elf who had spoken to me most. "Take the cot and keep it out of the way."

I watched carefully, my eyes moving from the king to the others. Watching for any sign of too much pain.

The others stayed perfectly quiet and still.

"Are you prepared?"

They nodded. My eyes found Harn's and locked against them. He gave me a single nod. I could feel a breath of the king's on my face.

"Ready? Slowly now. Lift."

Arms and muscles strained, grunts of effort and concentration came from the soldiers. I willed my hands not to shake.

A scream as loud as anything I had ever heard cut through the quiet like a chisel through ice. Hard and sharp. The pupil of the king's single eye tightened and shrank further. His back arched and his hands reached out and gripped whatever they could reach, which on the left was Harn's forearm. The young man's face twisted in discomfort.

"Shhh, shh, shh, shh, shh." I lowered my head closer to the king's, a few strands of my hair that had fallen free brushed his face. I pushed them away from his burns. "Place him on the bed, slowly, quickly."

The elves moved with grace and speed. They placed him on the bed gently and removed their hands. All but Harn stepped away. I asked them to leave.

The king continued to scream. The voice the came from between his lips, and even spread from the place where his cheek had been was like nothing I had ever heard. It was not the voice of the king that I had known, yes I had forgotten what his voice had sounded like, he had never spoken to me nor addressed me other than in a large group, but I knew this was not the voice of the king I had known. It was tortured, strained and pained, pitiful and enough to break even the strongest. My ears had never before heard such a sounds. I had worked in the infirmary for what I had thought was long enough to see everything one could see. Deaths, births, babies taken too soon, lovers separated by harm and grief ridden demises, the passing of those not wanted lost and the want for expiry when it would not come and claim those who no longer truly lived. But this, this was something that was purely tainting my heart which I had thought was turned to stone.

I whipped my head around to face the door and screamed, "I need the anesthesia, now!" I turned back to the room and to Harn. "Cold water, please."

Sweat beaded on his brow. "I can stay and help," he whispered.

"I know. But he needs relief. It's alright. I am not doubting your abilities and strength. Be quick please, I will need you to help me pull the armor off."

With a nod, he hurried off. I put my hands against the side of my head, then whipped my face with my sleeve. I was not the one with my half my face gone.

"My lord." I bent over the king, my face close to his right ear. "It will be over soon. The pain, I mean. I will keep you alive, that is my promise."

In rushed Meleth, jars and canisters in her hands. "I have anesthesia, I hope it is strong enough."

I grabbed it from her, tilted my head to the side, studying the jar. "We shall find out." I poured the amber liquid into a glass vile. "I need someone to hold his head."

Meleth placed the jars down and rushed to the king. She stopped near his head, her eyes quizzical.

"If you can just hold him still enough to get this down his throat."

She gave me a nod and placed her hands carefully, one against his jaw and the other on his forehead.

I gave the liquid in the vile a shake. "Ready?"

She nodded and held fast. I easily opened the king's jaw. It was not difficult to open his mouth as he continued to yell and pant like an animal. What was not easy was keeping him still.

I gritted my teeth together until my gums were pained, trying to steady him with my hand. I decided that some of anesthesia getting into his body was better than none and so I sucked a breath and thrust my hand into his mouth, letting the vile pour the liquid down into the back of his throat.

There were no coughs or swallows. Hands moved away from his face as Harn entered the room.

"I have the cold water."

"Good. I need cloths soaked and it mixed with…" I grabbed the jars from the table on which Meleth had placed them and studied the mixtures she and Hiril had made, "this."

Hiril took it from me and poured it into the bucket while Meleth fetched rags to soak.

"Should he be asleep yet?" Harn asked?

"If not now, soon." I turned back to the king. "Soon."

His screams lessened and became less violent. I took a cloth from the bucket and placed it against his forehead and then against the left side of his face. He let out one last, wrenching scream and lurched under my hand. His eye relaxed, the pupil opening and twitched slightly. It loomed around and seemed, for a moment, to not only be looking, but to see. It stopped on my face. I did not know what to say. I felt I should utter something, but then he fell silent and his eyelid covered his green eye.

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed my first chapter and attempt at a FanFiction. Please critique, any suggestions are welcome. I am not an expert on Tolkien and his work and so I apologize for any inconsistencies or mistakes regarding that. This is just for fun and my idea of how Legolas' parents could have met. I don't think this is how they met or anything, I just think this would make a good story for that. More coming soon!


	2. Chapter 2

_**Here is my second chapter. Thank you for all those who gave positive feedback on my first chapter. Hope you continue to enjoy my story. More to come soon!**_

I rubbed my eyes. The hour was late and I had been working, running, rushing about. It was not only the physical work, but the mental strain that was draining my body.

Hours had passed since the king of Mirkwood had been placed into my hands and under my care whilst he suffered. It was hours of blotting his skin with cool cloths, rubbing ointment into the rough skin, even the muscles beneath the burnt away parts of his face. Every few hours I had to slip him more anesthesia, trying to perfectly time if before he woke with screams was difficult, and it was those screams, the yells of agony, that were draining on me.

Soon after the king had slipped into the unfeeling place of drugs, where the pain could not touch him, Harn and I had removed the armor, a task that was not the easiest to perform.

Being unfamiliar with battle attire as I was, I had enlisted in to Harn to take off most of the armor. He had pried away the chest piece, exposing the sweat soaked clothing beneath.

"We'll have to remove that," I said, pointing to his white and green tunic.

Harn nodded. "It probably does not matter much now, but we should make him comfortable."

"If you undress and redress him, I am sure he will appreciate the clean clothes. I can help to an extent." I examined his left arm. "Getting this armor off will be tricky." The plates along his arm had been burnt and melted. Most of the fabric of his sleeve was gone to the fire, leaving some pieces of the armor melted directly into his flesh. "We must do it while he is sleeping."

"We can now."

I nodded. "If you can pull the armor off, I will take care of the skin and try to avoid taking much skin with it."

It was a ghastly business. Harn peeled the pieces away slowly while I, using my fingers and a paring knife, ripped the black, red, pink, and white skin away. I kept as much as could attached to his arm, but after we had finished, I soaked up blood with a dry rag and then sopped his arm with a damp one and applied a powder to clot the blood.

With a knife, I cut through the king's robes, making two long slits on either side. Then Harn held him up slightly while I pulled the fabric from beneath him. I yanked the top piece off quickly and exposed his marble white chest. The strong muscles in the tops of his shoulders, above his breast bone, and along the sides of his stomach were still. His white skin rose and fell slowly with each breath.

Using cool water and yet another cloth, I dabbed at the king's skin, cooling the heat of it and removing the sweat. I worked along his shoulders, down his neck, and around his temples, blotting at the dried blood matted in his hair, softening it and combing it out with my fingers.

I turned back to Harn. "I'm going to mix more anesthesia. If you could finish with his clothes…"

He nodded. "Of course."

I turned to leave.

"Audreil."

I looked back at where Harn stood near the king's feet.

"How are we going to fix ailments this…this horrible?"

"I do not yet know." I looked at the floor and back up, my eyes resting on the king's still body. "We mustn't give up. I won't."

Hours since the king had arrived, I sat in chair next to his sleeping face, his eyes closed, the lids red with snakes of red veins going from the crease socket to his eye lashes. They were surprisingly dark, especially against his skin.

I rubbed my palms against my thighs and then pinched the bridge of my nose. I had an idea, a mere thought of how I could literally fix the king. Make it so that his burns would not cause him pain and it would be possible for him to live freely as any other elf would. It would be risk to take and I wondered if a life of no pain, at least no pain from this particular incident, I couldn't say what else would happen in the king's life- was worth the risk?

Standing, I sighed and started across the room. I paced the length of the king's bed and back. I had seen my mother preform it once before, but she had not taught me the specifics. If I failed, I did not know what sort of consequences would befall him. My mother had told me to only that it was to be saved for extreme cases only. Was this one of those cases?

From the bed I heard a soft groan and a sharp intake of breath. My head spun around and I peered down at the king. His eye was no longer peacefully shut, but wrinkled and tight.

"My lord? Are you awake?"

A rasp came from his throat and I could not tell if it was meant or not. I turned and reached for the anesthesia but before I could grab the bottle from the table nearest his bed, a hand brushed mine. I spun back around.

"Are you in pain? I will give you the anesthesia in just a moment. I'm sorry that you have not received it sooner." I stopped. A raspy sound came from his throat.

"I no longer…n-need it." His voice was small, like a child's, but had the depth and deepness that I believed myself to be familiar with from when had heard him speak from before.

"I must urge that you take it. I do not mean any disrespect, I only feel that the pain is too harsh for anyone."

"I do not want to be dependent on drugs." His eye opened slowly and he blinked a few times before looking at me. The whites of his eye was still red, the pupil still small, but not as red or as small. I saw my own reflection in that deep, black pit.

"It's not dependence." I held my jaw tight. "Your face is literally burnt off. The amount of pain you must be in…You need the drugs."

"I do not recall having a queen in this realm," he nearly spat, teeth clenched.

"My lord, you are in _my_ division currently, and here, I _am_ queen."

His eye turned cold and I wondered if I had gone too far. I likely had but I knew I could not budge.

A sigh, raspy and cold came from his chest. "What is your name?"

I wrinkled my nose. "Audreil. I am the head healer here."

"I had," he coughed, "assumed as much." He closed his eye again and a very quiet hiss slipped through his lips.

I thought I had won and reached for the bottle. I measured out the dose while he remained still and silent. I moved to open his mouth, the vile held in my hand. I touched his chin, ready to open his mouth but before I could he reached up and smacked the glass from between my fingers and to the ground. It broke into pieces. He winced in pain afterwords.

"That, my lord, was not very considerate. Or thoughtful." I used my foot to sweep the glass into a small mound.

The king opened his eye slowly, peering at me from under the lid. I could not be sure, with parts of lips missing it was to tell, but I could have sworn he was smirking.

"Listen, King…?" I starred him down.

"Thranduil," he supplied. I wondered if I should be grateful for that.

"King Thranduil. I understand you are king and your power easily overrules mine, however, if you must fight with everything I do, nothing will get done."

"What is your plan?" His voice was softer, kinder.

I titled my head to the side. "Plan?"

"For my healing."

"I haven't thought on it very much."

"But you have been thinking of something."

I shaped my lips but did not utter the question of how he knew. If he knew, or if he was only playing me.

"What can you do to fix this?"

"There is one thing." I looked down at my hands and then to the pile of broken glass. "My mother has only done it once. I do not remember it well enough to know for sure without consulting notes."

King Thranduil closed his eyes again. "What would that be?" he asked slowly. I could tell he was in great pain.

"It is not only medicine and herbs. It requires a great amount of skill and nothing less than the most acquired and practiced magic one can summon."

"What would the favourable outcome be?"

"The pain would be gone. You will not have much feeling, but you will be pain free, as well as have the missing pieces returned to your face. It will almost be as if you never burnt at all. I just do not know if I can do successfully. I would if I could but I don't know."

"I want you to do it." His voice was so quiet, I barely heard him. He opened his eye against and rested it on me.

I felt as if I was looking down at a child, someone looking at you with everything they have, every hope in their mind, rested on you, upon your shoulders.

"If I were to, in any way, make any type of mistake-"

"I know." He closed his eye again. "But I believe that it could be done. I also believe it is worth the risk. I need to be a strong, powerful king, not a weakling with a scar."

"Scars are marks of battle."

His chest shuddered with a breath. "If I allow you to put me back into sleep, will you do it?"

Half of my mouth tipped up in a smile. "I suppose I could make that deal."


	3. Chapter 3

_**Hi everyone! Once again, thank you for reading and all of the great support as well as suggestions. I hope you continue to enjoy my story. I will try my best to keep the updates coming quickly. I do have school starting soon, so I apologize in advance for any future delays regarding that. I will try my best to update as quickly as possible. I really enjoy all the feedback and please keep any suggestions coming. I love to hear what you guys think as well as any improvements you have in mind, I do take those into consideration when writing my next pieces. I do think of you all when I'm writing and because of you I have been able to keep writing as quickly as I have been. When school starts I won't be able to write as much, but there will still be updates and I will not quit writing until I've felt my story has come to a good ending so I promise I won't leave you guys hanging forever. Thanks again and I hope you like this! I know so far my chapters may have seemed a bit boring (they haven't even left the room…) but the next few will have a bit more going on than just them talking and such. I wanted a good starting point and didn't want to leave anything out, but expect more in terms of that coming soon. I'll update as soon as I can! Thank you! **_

Days had passed since King Thranduil and I had spoken. Healing him had been challenging, but nothing was as difficult as it was to sit by his side and merely wait.

I had not left the room since our conversation. Hunger gnawed at my stomach and sleep tugged at my eyelids. I yearned for a real meal, I had only been brought food- bread, cheese, and water, and desired a soft bed and clean sheet instead of resting my eyes, my head pressed against the wall as I sat in the chair next to the king's bed.

Others had offered to take my place many times. They tried to relieve me, but after I declined and finally snapped at anyone who came near, I left well alone for a long time now.

I sat next to his bed now, an empty plate on the table beside me. I looked down at his face.

What I knew about the king of this land was incredibly minimal. I had heard he had troubles in his past. A dead father, no known mother, a great and many loses plagued him. But grief it seemed, had alluded him. He looked as young as anyone I had seen; his face, to my eyes, was almost childlike in that way, blemish and wrinkle free, wide eyed and not yet tainted with the pain of years gone by.

But as I watched his face, I noticed a change. Slowly, almost too slow for my sharp eyes to see, pale skin began growing around the brunt skin nearest his hairline. The same started around his neck and chin.

I stood up quickly and gasped. Then I slapped a hand over my mouth, afraid I may have woken him. He remained still but his skin continued to change.

Wonder, happiness, and pride surged through me. Along with relief. I had done it. The king would be healed, he would be fine, live a long, healthy life.

The healing worked its way down his face and up his chin, to the gaping hole in his cheek. I stared in wonder as the hole closed up, finishing off his pale, thin lips.

Even his eye had returned. Where an empty socket once was, his lid lay loosely over the hole, and it began to fill. A bulb grew under the skin until it was even with the other, full and round.

I dared to pull the sheet that covered his chest down slightly. His arm was the same, fully healed, with soft pale hair as if there was never an injury in the first place.

"I've done it." I smiled to his sleeping form and sank back into the chair. A new wave of relieved exhaust washed over me. I felt that I could finally rest without the weight of the king's pain on my shoulders. I rested my elbow on the bed, next to his pillow and cupped my chin in my hand.

I looked sleepily down at the king, feeling pride in my work. His face was, after all, quite handsome. Seeing both sides, seeing him without seeing the pain, was not an unpleasant feeling.

Sleep weighed down my eyes until the lids fell shut. A few moments of rest would be fine, he was safe now.

"Sleeping on the job, now are we?"

I awoke with a start from the sleep I had not realized I had fallen into so quickly. The king was awake, both eyes staring at me, his face very close to mine. His voice had been deeper, stronger than before and very even.

"I apologize," I removed my elbow from the bed and straightened my spine, "my lord."

"No need. I feel as if," he moved to sit up, "I can leave and go strolling in the forest."

I grabbed his shoulder tightly, my fingers and palm pressed against his skin. It was soft as new moss but still too warm and quite balmy. "I cannot allow you to do that."

He pressed against me, but I refused to let up. He then allowed me to press his shoulders back down to the bed. "What have you done here?" He raised a hand and felt the left side of his face.

"I think I may have fixed it." I could not keep the smile from my lips. "The burns are gone. Are you in any pain?"

"No. I feel fine."

My smile broke into a large grin. "That is excellent! I am so pleased."

"When you're finished acting as a giddy girl, would you mind getting me some water?" he said coolly.

"I just saved the life of the king. Your life." I grabbed the pitcher on the table and poured the water into the glass I used earlier. I had no other. "I apologize for allowing myself to be gleeful." My voice was sour as I handed him the glass.

As he sat up slightly, the look behind his eyes was lazy, the lids falling down slightly. He took the glass, his fingers lightly brushing mine. I pulled my hand away quickly. He took a few sips and then lowered the glass and held it against his side. He still leaned against the back of the bed, his head upright, and his expression stony.

"You do seem quite young," he obsessed.

"Not young enough to save your life. Or to save many others."

He moved to place the glass on the table. His hand shook slightly. I grabbed the glass and placed it myself.

"I would not have died. Only have horrible scars."

I ignored him.

He spoke again. "How old are you?"

Tempted to ignore him once more, I stayed silent.

Those green eyes peered at me, not fierce and strong, but soft and curious.

"I was young at your father's funeral. No longer a child by any means, but not yet a woman." I couldn't help but add, "Perhaps if you knew about your staff and took an interest you would know."

His expression did not change. I wondered if I had gone too far, snapped to harshly at the king. But he acted less royal than most of my patients here. The lack of formality was unusual.

"I sense you are displeased with me as a king." He steepled his long, pale fingers over his chest and stared at them. "I knew who you were, I was merely unfamiliar with your face." Back at me, his eyes went. "Your mother's dying wish to me was that you take her place here."

My heart thudded in my chest and felt suddenly twice as large and heavy. I opened my mouth to speak, but I did not know what to say. I closed it. Then opened it. "I did not realize you knew my mother."

"She saved my father from death many times." He watched his fingers again. "I did not know her well, but well enough. Before she died, I went to her."

"I was not there?"

"No, I do remember other healers forcibly removing you." A small smile curved his lips. "You had not slept nor eaten in days." He gave a small chuckle. "It appears as though that is a pattern." He looked back up at me and for a moment I saw him differently. With eyes that said nothing, no underlying purpose or motive, no secrets or wonder. Just purely looking. "I am sure it has been sometime since you've slept."

I shrugged. "I am fine."

"If I am truly well again, as you say-"

"You are not completely well, not yet. It will take time to gain strength. That new face of yours, it is permanent, but not without any drawbacks. Harsh emotions will waver it. If you are very upset or angry, the burns will likely reappear. And there will be some pain. I hope that eventually you will able to keep everything pristine and well. You will be completely able to maintain this yourself. At first though, my help will be required."

He nodded. "If I am…better than before, than I do not think you must watch me as intently. You need rest and a good meal."

"You mustn't think you are completely healed already. It will take time yet."

"I know, I know. Have someone else watch over me, just for enough time for you to rest and regain some strength. You have my word that I will not move from this bed until you allow it."

I titled my head to the side. "Really?"

"I give you my word. Is that not enough?"

"No, it is. I just…you puzzle me."

He gave a small snort and smiled. Then he adjusted himself to be lying back down. "I will see you as soon as you return. Take your time."

I bowed my head. "Yes, my lord. I will send another healer." I then turned to leave and began to walk out of the room. Before I had crossed the threshold, I peered over my shoulder. His eyes were closed and he lay perfectly still. And then I left, finally content with his wellbeing.


	4. Chapter 4

I had my first full meal in days. Complete with fresh fruits and vegetables, meat and cheese, and seven some wine. After eating like a starved traveler, I went to my room and fell swiftly into a deep, dreamless sleep.

When I awoke, I had no idea of the time or even what day it was. I yawned and stretched. After I got up, I realized I had slept for some time. It was early afternoon. I definitely felt well rested.

I washed up and dressed. I had not changed my clothes in days either and I could not deny how good it felt to have a new dress on. I chose one of black, grey, and green. The green, I noted, was close to the color of the king's eyes.

My hair took a long time to brush out completely. The golden waves were tightly tangled. When I had finally got my hair smooth, I braided pieces above my ears and back around my crown. I added a simple plain silver headpiece. I believed that one's appearance had a lot to do with how they felt at times, at least it helped, and after days of not taking care of myself, I felt the need to make up for that.

The infirmary was quiet when I arrived. A few other war patients were in the main room. I gave each a small smile and asked how they were feeling. The replies were all pleasing.

When I entered the king's private room, I smelt fresh soap and warm soup. Harn was sitting in the chair that had been mine for days. He looked up when I walked near and placed a single finger to his lips.

"He's sleeping?" I confirmed. "How has he been?"

Standing, Harn said, "He is gaining strength. This is one of few times he has actually slept fully. I have tried to get him to eat. He is not very interested in food."

"Because he lacks appetite or is he merely being stubborn?"

Harn's eyes widened. No one spoke of the king being stubborn. "Well I brought him some bread and water earlier and soup not too long ago. He only picked at the bread. When I gave him the soup he said he was tired and then he did fall asleep."

"Very well." I nodded. "I think it would not hurt to get him up and moving. Movement increases blood flow and will help with the healing. Perhaps after that he will have more of an appetite."

"How are you feeling?"

"Fine now. Rested and fed. I will stay with the king. You are free to go now."

He gave me a polite nod and then left the room. Once again I was alone with the king.

It was not long that I was sitting in what felt like my place, at the king's side, before his eyes fluttered open. I let him get his bearings for a moment.

"You've returned," he stated before I could speak.

"Yes, I've eaten and slept."

"And did your hair."

My hand flew to brush lose strands away from my face. "That is not important. Harn said you refused to eat."

He straightened himself and lifted his shoulders. I noticed that he had been dressed in a loose white shirt. "I was not hungry."

"You must eat in order to get your strength back." I picked up the bowl of broth and stirred it with the spoon. "It's chicken broth, that's all."

"I know what it is." He glared at the bowl coldly as if it contained the beating heart of an enemy. "I do hope you are not planning on spoon feeding me like a child."

"If you do not act like a child, I will not have to do so." I handed him the bowl.

The look he gave me was none to kind, his eyes narrowed and his jaw was hard, but he took the bowl from my hands and slowly spooned the liquid into his mouth. His hands shook slightly, but the more he ate, the steadier they became. When he had consumed nearly half of the bowl's contents, he handed it back to me.

"Was that really that horrible?" I couldn't resist.

"Are you always this annoyingly cheeky?"

"Only when I must be." I set the bowl down and stood. "Come now, I want you up and walking."

He raised a single brow, his left one. I wondered if it was a talent he had always possessed and how much he would have missed that ability had he lost the eye, including the brow. "Why?" The word rolled slowly off his tongue, slow and sticky like syrup.

"It helps the healing process and it's what I want. As we discussed previously, my domain."

"Your domain is part of my kingdom."

"My lord, your life is in my hands. Would you like to continue questioning me?"

He snorted and smiled, large enough to show off his white teeth. "One day someone will not take too kindly to the way you speak to them."

I only crossed my arms.

But he did as I requested. The blankets were thrown off his body and he slowly swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He wore grey tights and nothing on his feet. They reached and touched the stone floor.

"Slowly." Then I added, "Please."

"I have been walking for much longer than you've been alive," he smirked.

"You are that old? That is not what I was referring to. You are still weak."

"From what you've told me, I believe that I am about twice your age." He moved to stand and I rushed to his side as his legs straightened, his knees locking beneath him. I realize then how tall he actually was. I had always thought him to be of a great height, but having only seen him at distance, or quickly, with the position of power he held, I had merely assumed it was my mind lengthening his spine. Now that we stood side by side, I felt almost dwarfed. He was an entire head taller.

"You have been king for a great while now." A thought crossed my mind. He had been ruling a very long time with no queen by his side. I wondered if that was why he was so bitter, or if was the other way around. "You had no visitors," I pressed. Perhaps he had a lady waiting that we citizens of Mirkwood did not have knowledge of at the moment.

He looked down at me. We were standing so close, he was peering directly down. I felt warm breath on my face. "Who," his tone was icy, "would have come to see me?" He placed his right foot before himself and shifted his weight.

"Oh, I don't know. Friends?" I matched his step. "A lady maybe?" I resisted the urge to elbow his ribs.

He moved his left foot, right again. "You think I _have_ a lady?"

"I would not have asked if I knew."

"Why are you interested in knowing?"

"I am curious to know what sort of woman would be able to stand being in your presence, not to mention enjoy it."

"If you must know," he continued slowly across the floor, "the most time I have ever spent with a woman, with her and her alone, was the time we were with me here. If you would like to count that, being unconscious as I was for most of that time."

"Oh. I did not mean to…"

"To what?"

"Pry, I suppose. Unearth any unpleasant feelings."

"There are no unpleasant feelings. I am not interested in that sort of thing right now. My efforts are elsewhere." As he finished his words, he took another step, but it was wobbly, not as graceful as he had moved until that point. His knees buckled.

My arm flew out before him, slapping against his chest and gripping his upper arm. He had reached out and wrapped his fingers tightly around my other forearm.

His eyes turned glassy then and stared straight ahead, completely blank. I tried to pull him up, make him straight again, but I was small and not very strong. He was tall, and muscular, too heavy for me to hold.

"My lord, please, we must get back to the bed." My own knees began to shake and bend. "I cannot carry you."

The words were lost on deaf ears. He continued to fall in my arms.

I could no longer hold him up. We tumbled to the ground in a nimble heap. I adjusted myself and took his head against me, holding him carefully against my ribcage.

"Can you hear me?" I slapped my hand to his right cheek. "My lord, please." The left side of his face wavered and started a pale pink. "My lord! Thranduil!"

His eyes opened slowly, lazily. He blinked a few times, the haziness in them slowly left, and then gazed up at me. His eyes made their way back down, taking in his head against my chest, his shoulders in my lap.

I said, "I think that was a bit too much for your first day on your feet."

He sighed. "This is not what I wanted." His muscles tensed and he started to push himself up from the ground.

"Be careful." I helped him, allowing him to lean on me the entire up as we worked our way to standing together.

"I am fine." He pulled away from my grasp but I moved to him again and reached for his arm. He batted my hand down.

"You mustn't rush things," I said, my voice breaking slightly. "I know you do not want this, but I cannot allow you to strain yourself. You must go back to bed."

He no longer fought. Instead he slowly, clumsily, walked to the bed, reaching out for it as if he was in the desert for days and it was water. He sat down and placed his head in hands. I would have rather been given a snarky remark than have this.

"I am king," he muttered into his hands. He pulled his face away.

My hand flew to my mouth when I saw that the burn had returned. His right eye was slightly red, the left a black pit once more. His muscles in his face flinched uncomfortably. The pain was being felt.

"I should be out, fighting for my people, protecting them, leading them. Not here in this wretched place, falling to the floor."

Without giving myself time to consider it, I sat down next to him. "This place is not wretched. It's my home. Where I belong. I know you do not and that is why I am doing what I can to get you out of here."

Silence.

I went on. "It is frustrating, I know. But you cannot expect, after what you endured, to be able to go out and fight once again and run about the forest. It is just not possible."

"I should not have endured what I did." He looked straight ahead, his expression hard, his hands tight in his lap. "It was mine own stupidity that cause this mess in the first place." He reached his left arm out, burnt and sore, and slammed the table. The bowl of soup, disturbed, jumped from the table and hit the floor. The broth spilt in a small pool.

"You have made quite the mess while you've been here."

The look I received was meant to do harm.

I cracked my fingers. "Listen, my lord. Thranduil. I do not know what happened. My knowledge of battle fields and hunting and killing is incredibly limited. I could not even fire an arrow. Well, I have never tried. But I know that being here is difficult. I have seen others tortured by this. Some come here in better mental shape than they leave with. But trust me, please. You will get out and you will be strong again. Really, what is mere days to your long life?" I tried to make eye contact again. "We can try again tomorrow, and the day after that. I shall not give up, so long as you do not."

He finally looked my way. His eye locked on mine. "No one has ever promised me anything like that and kept it." His voice shook but it was barely above a whisper.

I stood and held the blankets up so he could arrange himself under them. He laid down and let me cover him. "I will not go back on my word."

His eyes closed slowly. He placed a hand over the blanket on his chest. His fingers bent and straightened like a spider's legs. I slipped mine beneath them and held there tightly. Only for a moment. Once he fell asleep, I took my hand away, but sat next to him and prepared myself for more long days.


	5. Chapter 5

The next few days were not as difficult as I had imagined. Thankfully I was able to fix where the burns had returned. I had suspected they would have eventually, so I was not too rattled by their appearance.

The king slept through the night and woke the next morning, hungry and lively. He ate a full meal and stayed awake all day. Again we tried walking and he made it to one wall and back to the bed successfully.

And he continued to improve. He ate three meals a day and was up and walking around the room and even the large infirmary hall, where the other patients look upon him curiously.

Conversations were minimal. He was not interested in speaking to me much but he no longer returned my requests with snarky comments. On one hand, I was pleased that he was finally listening and letting me take charge, on the other, I wondered why things had changed. In some ways I wished for his old self to return.

In the morning of the fourth day since he had begun walking about, I brought him a bowl of porridge and one for myself. I set them on the table and then helped him sit up in bed. Once he was leaning against the upright pillow, I handed him the bowl. He held it in his lap and ate slowly.

"How are you feeling today?" I asked, stirring my breakfast slowly.

"Fine," he answered. "Did you make this?"

I shook my head and swallowed my mouthful. "No. My cooking skills are-well, I do not have any."

He chuckled. "You mix up those potions of yours easily enough."

"That's not what they are."

"Then what are they?"

"Different remedies and such."

"I do not see the difference." His tone was slightly short.

"You wouldn't."

He gave me a brooding look. "I think perhaps today I would like to walk outside of this place. I have not been in the halls, seen my thrown, slept in my own bed, in too long."

"Do not get ahead of yourself." I cleaned my bowl and stood. "We can walk outside of the infirmary. How much, I will not decide."

He looked sideways at me. "You decide?"

"Of course. Now, I'll fetch you some shoes."

"Go to my chambers. I would like new clothes and you can get my boots. And crown. I don't want to be seen outside of here looking sickly."

"My lord, you are."

I received another cool look. "Tell the guard at my door that I sent you. Everything will be in my dressing room. Do not go through my things."

"I would not think on it." I bowed my head respectfully. "I be quick." I left the room and walked through the halls of the fortress. Morning light slithered through the few windows from the world above as I took the paths and climbed stairs upwards to where the royal chambers were held. I knew they were their own tiny community, many rooms for an entire family of elves to live comfortably. I hoped it would be easy to navigate the king's rooms and get out.

The guard the gate was stone faced when I walked up to him. He was familiar to me, for a time, he had been stationed near the infirmary. The medicine and herbs were valuable.

"I am here on orders from the king," I said, my voice solid.

The guard's face softened. "You're the head healer, Audriel?"

I nodded.

"How is the king?"

"Better than he was. He is gaining strength. He wants some clothes and shoes. That is why I'm here."

He stepped aside and opened the heavy latch that held the double doors shut tight. He swung the doors open wide enough for me to walk in. "Straight ahead and the second hall on your right."

"Thank you." I ducked between the doors and started down the hall. The doors shut loudly behind me.

Being in the king's personal rooms made my skin feel sticky and my heart feel as if it were located in my throat. This was where he would likely spend most of his time, where he kept his private things, where he put his head to rest at night and dreamed peacefully.

There was one long hall that had various doorways off either side and ended in a large, circular sitting room with high ceilings and windows at the top, letting in the light from above so that the entire room was bright.

I followed the directions I was given and turned to the second hall. It lead around to the left and I climbed a small flight of stairs before I came to a set of doors. My hand tightened around the handle slowly and I gave the door a firm yank and pulled it open.

It was still a hallway. I sighed and carried on, but soon found myself in the king's bedchamber.

The room was large, circular in shape. Against the far wall stood a great bed, the blankets and sheets white and green against the large wooden headboard decorated with antlers and leaves. The bed was neatly made as if no one had ever slept in at all.

Along the walls, he had other furniture, not as dominating of the room as the bed, but each piece was just as beautiful. There was small desk, a dressing table with washbasin and mirror, a lounge chair, and a few scattered chairs. The colors were mostly green, with deep greys and some black and brown. It much reminded me of the forest, full and healthy in a deep, vigorous spring.

Another set of doors were on the right side of the room. I pulled them open. This what I had come for, the king's dressing room.

For a man's closet, it was huge, but only half full. The space was meant for two complete sets of clothing.

Robes and tunics hung from hooks on the walls. Shelves with shoes and boots for every occasion lined the walls next to the hooks. Even though half the hooks and shelves were empty, I was in awe at how many articles of clothing he had and the absolute beauty of so many of them. I had seen him wear great robes of red and greens and silver, but catching them in my eye from afar was nothing like seeing them up close.

I dared to run my fingers over one long sliver and red cape. It felt like silk and so light between my fingers. I took it from the hook and held it in my arms. It smelt clean but there was a smell reminiscent of the king himself on the garment. A slight musk that reminded me of clean soil, leaves and fresh air of the forest, clung to the fabric.

Realizing what I was doing, I thrust the cape back on the hook and adjusted it hastily, hoping it looked as it had before I touched it.

After going throw the crapes and robes, allowing myself to touch each one, because I needed to know which would be best, I picked a simple grey tunic that went down past my knees when I held it against my own body. I grabbed dark grey tights to match and a pair of simple green boots. With my hands full, I moved to leave, before I remembered.

"A crown," I whispered. My voice echoed off the walls and ceiling.

In one glance around the room, my eyes caught on a large glass cabinet. Behind the doors sat four crowns, one, I considered, for each season. A white one, with sharp points that looked identical to real icicles. A green one, with brown sticks jutting upwards and leaves entwined in them along little vines. For the summer, there was one with a golden frame and flowers of all colors imaginable.

I opened the door and adjusted my hold on the garments, the fabrics over my arm and reached carefully for the crown made of gold, silver and red and orange leaves. I clutched it tightly in my sweaty hand. It was surprisingly light, much lighter than it looked. Holding close to my face, I examined the intricate details of the scrolling on the gold and the tiny leaves that clung to it.

Never in my life had I seen anything as gorgeous as the things that Thranduil wore.

I shut the cabinet with my elbow and headed out from the room, imagining the sort of things the king would say to me if I was gone longer than he liked. I hurried out and nodded a polite goodbye to the guard when I left the chamber, hurrying back to the king to give him his clothing and crown.


	6. Chapter 6

"I've got your things." I walked into the room where the king sat up in bed, his hands folded in his lap.

His eyebrows raised at me. "You took your time."

"I did not snoop, if that's what you mean." I set the clothes gently down on the edge of the bed and placed the crown on the top of the pile. "I hope what I took is suitable." I backed away from the bed and crossed my arms. I gave him a look that I hoped stopped any complaints.

He reached for the clothes, set his crown out of the way, and examined the garments. "I supposed they will do." He slowly got up from the bed and stood tall, his legs strong underneath him. "Are you going to leave? Or watch me undress?"

I snorted. "If I was interested, I would have seen all there is to see already." Then with a tip of my chin, I left the room and shut the door behind me. I leaned my back against the door and waited for the king to dress.

It was interesting, his teasing. Modesty was not something most elves took lightly in such a way. But I was not unaccustomed to seeing men and women undressed. Being a healer, and having been for some time now, I had seen my share of bodies in every form. Birthing babies was regular work, cleaning those incapable of doing it themselves, and addressing issues that merely required me to have an immunity against such private matters, it was all part of my profession.

With the king being in my care, I had taken extra care with that matter, having Harn dress and clean him, if that needed be. The king was much different than my other patients.

The door opened and I stumbled unexpectedly backwards due to my mistake of leaning against it. The king stood behind me and I hit his chest with a soft 'oof'. He reached out and grabbed my upper arms and righted me.

"Leaning against the outside of a door that opens inward is not exactly the wisest."

I turned around, prepared to make a remark in return. The words were on my tongue but they soon vanished.

The king stood before me, tall and proud as I had ever seen him. The tunic covered his chest more tightly than the white one had worn before. It began slightly past his knees, where his tights clung to his legs between it and his boots. Then the grey outfit continued upwards, clenched above his wait, up to past his breast bone. It opened at his neck, revealing the hollow at the base. The collar brushed the bottom of his chin.

Always, had he been tall. But now his crown added an entirely new stature to his already impressive height. It saw perfectly upon his head, the points sticking up around his skull, above his ears and around the back of his head. The crown swooped down, hugging his cheek bones and pointing to his upturned lips.

He tilted his head to one side. "Have you gone mute?"

I shook myself. "No, of course not."

"What is the problem then?"

"There is not a problem." I moved out of his path. "Whenever you are ready, my lord."

He started forward and I fell into step beside him. He then held out his arm. I looked up at him, puzzled.

"If you would be so kind. If I should feel weak, of course."

I threaded my arm through his. "Of course." I kept my arm lose, trying to, when possible, avoid touching him.

Arm in arm, we strolled down the halls. When elves walked past, they gave the king a polite nod, told him they were glad to see him and that he was well enough to be out and walking about and wished him all the best. Their eyes often fell on me, but nothing was said. I was sure some things were thought.

The silence was dreadful to me. I felt sufficiently awkward, strolling the way we were and not speaking. I opened my mouth several times, ready to speak, and then shut it again.

Finally, the king ended the dreadful quiet.

"What did you think of my living space?" he asked.

I shrugged. "It is quite spacious for someone who spends their time alone."

"I prefer it that way."

"Alone? Or spacious?"

"Both."

I was not sure how he could be so content with so much solitude.

After another few moments of silence, I broke it. "If you're feeling well enough, I would allow you to leave the infirmary. I do have a few conditions, however."

"Conditions?" He rubbed his chin.

"Yes. You mustn't strain yourself. Rest is still very important. I will still need to see you, at least twice a day for the time being until I can decide otherwise. You can live as do in the infirmary, only you can stay in your own rooms. You no longer need constant care."

The look in his eyes told me he was contemplating my words. They gazed forward, his forehead had one tiny wrinkle from his brow furrowing.

"I believe you are healing, just not completely."

"I do need to see to many things. Since I have been confined, a lot has gone without my attention."

"As long as you do not strain yourself, I do not feel that would be a problem. But any king is better than no king."

He did not reply to that topic of conversation. "We are nearly there," he said, pointing ahead of us.

We were then strolling across the bridge leading to the king's throne. I had never before crossed this bridge in all my time living here, which was my entire life. The throne loomed before us, a giant chair, a top a set of intimidating stairs that climbed steeply to the where the king sat, framed in a lacework of antlers and wood carvings.

Stopping, I starred up at the throne, my eyes working to take in every detail. In the past few hours I had seen more beauty than ever before.

The king removed his arm from mine and swept his hand upwards towards the throne. "Have a seat."

"You would like me to sit in your throne?"

"I am offering it to you, yes."

"I think that this would break some rules, definitely traditions." I kept my feet planted where they were.

"I am asking you to."

"Why?"

He fumed for a moment and bit his bottom lip, hard.

"Don't do that," I scolded.

"Why will you not sit?" His face was upturned.

"I do not want to disrespect you, or anyone else. Do you really think your father would approve?"

"He's dead." He turned his face away.

"I did not mean…I just do not want to hurt…anything."

He muttered at his feet, "You saved my life."

I titled my head to the side. The gratitude was more unexpected than a snowfall in the heat of summer.

"I would like to thank you, I feel as if I am forever in your debt with no way to repay you. I thought maybe you would not mind, smart gestures, that is. Until I can think of something suitable."

Words escaped me. I toyed with the hem of my sleeve. The king was such a complex, difficult character to unearth. But I had also learned he was fragile, something I would have never imagined.

With wobbly legs, I climbed the stairs to the throne. They were thin, no railing lined them and the bottom of the fall was out of sight. I kept my eyes on the throne and finally turned, facing the kingdom and sat.

"I cannot say it is as comfortable as it appears," I called down to the king, adjusting myself to ease the stiffness against my seat.

The king turned to me and peered up. He blinked a few times before saying, "You look quite tiny sitting up there."

"I feel like a dwarf."

"I must say, you are much more pleasing to look at than any dwarf."

"I would hope so, those beards are atrocious."

He laughed, his smile going all the way to his eyes. "It's been a long while since anyone but myself has sat there."

"Is it difficult, ruling alone with no one to help?" I asked, running my finger over the ridges craved delicately into the arms of the chair.

"I do not understand, I have always ruled alone, as did my father."

"Behind every great man is a great woman. You must make every decision on your own, with no one to console with, no help."

"Are you suggesting that I need assistance?"

"I am not saying that you need it, what I am trying to express is that two brains are better than one. Man or woman. You do not need a wife to help you rule by any means, but having someone, even a friend, would be helpful to you."

He shook his head. "That is a ridiculous notion."

"How so?"

"I am king, I am the only one, I make decisions and have no one to argue about them with, as I am doing so with you now!" His voice had raised, his eyes gone dark.

"I am not meaning to try and irk you, my lord."

"I find that preposterous, as you are doing an excellent job."

I fumed, unsure of what to say. "All that I meant to say is to perhaps consider the idea of allowing someone to be part of your life. You are so alone but it is no one's fault save for your own. You push everyone away. You absolutely refuse to allow anyone to be close to you."

"Well I see that here, I should not make the mistake of altering that pattern." With those words, he swept away, the end of his tunic catching against the air as he turned and started off. He glided quickly across the bridge, and turned out of sight, leaving me sitting in his throne, my tiny frame feeling smaller than it had when I first sat down.


	7. Chapter 7

_**Hi everyone, sorry I haven't been around lately and that it took FOREVER to get this up. I hope you guys like the chapter and that it was worth the wait!**_

My entire routine was changed without the king in my constant care. I could not say that he was not on my mind, I often found myself thinking of him whilst I tended to the other elves in the infirmary. Part of me wanted to see him and demand for him to understand what I had been trying to say and to agree, the other part wanted nothing more to do with him. But I could not allow that to take over. I had to check on him, for his health of course.

After I had done quick rounds of the infirmary- everyone was being well cared for with Harn overseeing them all, I took a bowl of porridge from the kitchens and two remedies I made up earlier, one for strength and the other for calming one's moods and overall health.

With my hands full, I walked down the same path I had the day before, for a different purpose. When I reached the door, the guard let me enter again with no hesitation. Once in the main hall of the king's quarters, I called out loudly.

"My lord? Are you here?"

No answer, not even a sound came from the halls.

"King Thranduil?"

Still nothing. Cross, I flounced down the hall to the door of his sleeping chamber and after putting all I held into one hand and balancing it there, I hammered my fist against the wood.

"I know that you've heard me! Open the door."

I grabbed the handle of the door, ready to push it open, when it swung open, my hand still on the knob. I fell forward, but quickly caught myself before I smacked into the king. That had to stop.

"I heard you the first time."

I attempted to muster his cold, aloof attitude. "Well how would I have known?" I asked with a tilt of my shin.

"I was not yet decent." He stepped aside, allowing me into the room. He wore a long burgundy dressing robe, his head bare. The robe slithered behind me as he walked over to the lounge seat. He adjusted the robe around himself and sat down.

Setting down the food and crossing my arms, I said, "I have brought you breakfast and few things I've made up."

Without a word, he waved his hand and looked away.

I sighed loudly. After what had happened between us yesterday, and his continually stubborn mood wearing on me, my patience for his antics was gone.

A glance was shot my way, but nothing more.

"You must eat." I picked up the bowl of porridge and walked over to the king. His eyes followed my feet across the floor. I held out the bowl. "Here you are," I said pointedly while holding it before him.

His eyes glanced lazily up at me. "I am not interested in eating right now." He turned away and looked across the room.

Irate, the shoved the bowl at his chest anyways. He was surprised and quickly grabbed the bowl before it fell to the ground.

I could no longer keep my thoughts silent. This wavering attitude, kind feelings one day and childish torment the next was wearing on me. I told him exactly what I felt and I did not hold back words or my tone.

"All I have been trying to do is make you better," I told him fiercely, my voice gaining sharpness and volume as I went on," to heal you and fix what happened. And everything you give back to me is just horrid. I do not understand how it is that difficult to merely be thankful and treat others with some respect and kindness once and a while."

His eyes were widened, his mouth agape. No one had likely ever spoken to the king the way I dared to so often.

I went on, "You told me before that no one kept promises to you, they gave up and left you to your own. I can see why. You cannot expect someone to always do all the giving, to be completely selfless and receive nothing in return. Perhaps if you treated those in your life better, you would actually have friends and maybe even a family."

Finished, I waited for his response. I yell, a scream, anything. What I got was pure silence. The loudest quiet I have ever heard.

King Thranduil starred down at the floor, utterly lifeless. Had I gone far enough to have broken him?

"I am not ungrateful," he said finally.

"It is not thanks and praise that I am looking for. I merely want some cooperation."

Taking the spoon, he stirred the bowl before him. "I am not merely trying to irk you."

"Perhaps someone else would be better suited to care for you." I picked up the remedies from the table and set them down on the one closest to him. "Your care is quite basic now."

He took a spoonful of porridge and chewed lightly. "I would be quite unhappy if you no longer wanted to see me."

"I am quite exhausted of these games and childish behaviour."

"It is not that I am trying to vex you. You must understand, it is difficult for me. I have never been close to someone else in my life. I do have a feeling of closeness to you, likely due to the fact you have seen me at worst, and pulled from sickness to health. I was going to propose a friendship."

"A friendship?" I was unsure I heard him correctly.

His eyes were inside the bowl as he scrapped at the edges with the spoon. "I was hoping that maybe, even after I was healed, I would still get to be in your company."

"No." I shook my head. The word was much harsher than I imagined, but I did not waver. "I am sorry, my lord, but I cannot keep up this…whatever it is we have. It is exhausting." I sighed deeply. "I made the medicine up for you, one for strength, one for relaxation and the other to regulate moods and emotions, to help with your face." I then turned to leave and walked slowly out of the room. I half believed that the king would stop me, but he allowed me to leave without another word.

I hurried through the halls and finally out the large doors to the forest. The trees enveloped the grounds as I walked slowly now towards the garden.

The garden was where the plants were grown for medical purposes, rows upon rows of plants, shrubs, and finally trees, grew tall and strong against the forest.

With a sigh, I let myself relax, allowed the tension to fall from my shoulders and breathed deeply. Being here was relaxing, delightful and soothing.

A hand was laid on my shoulder. I startled and turned quickly.

The king stood behind me, wearing a green tunic for outdoors and boots meant for traveling.

"I apologize," he said softly.

I was so shocked to see him here, I could not muster any cold feelings. "For what?"

His eyes scanned the ground at my feet. "Quite a lot."

I kicked the dirt, unsure of what to do or say, looking down at my feet.

"I have a question for you."

"Go ahead."

He bit down on his bottom lip before speaking. "I must first apologize for my behavior. It is difficult for me to be in this...situation." He took a step towards me.

"You have sung that song before."

"Not as you believe it."

I took a step backwards. "What do you mean by that?"

"Audriel, I…I do not know how to say this." He turned and peered up at the sky and squinted into the sunlight. "Since the day I saw you, I found you incredibly beautiful, inside and out. I had seen you briefly before of course, and I thought well enough of you, but I finally got to really _see _you."

I did not know what to say or do. I stayed quiet, my knees feeling weak and yet locked together at the same time. I wanted him to continue and yet I was afraid of what he was going to say.

"No one has treated me the way you have. Every person seems afraid, as if saying the wrong thing will get their heads chopped off. You just are. You are so real and treat me as someone instead of a king. I am so exhausted with people tip toeing around me and never knowing if they are actually saying what they mean. I feel like you, you expose yourself and there is nothing hidden, no secrets to figure out. I could go on, but I have a great amount of respect for you. You are truly fearless."

"I am not fearless." It was all I could utter.

He tilted his head to the side. "But you have never shown fear around me."

"I think I have merely got good at hiding it."

A small smile tipped up his lips but then his mouth went thin.

"I still do not understand how this is a question." I crossed my arms.

"That is why I am so…enthralled with you."

"_Enthralled_?" I gasped. Then I laughed. "You and I can barely stand to be the same room with one another."

"I am completely serious."

"About what?"

"My feelings. I cannot hide behind lies. Not anymore."

"I…I do not see where this is going." I hugged myself.

"Audriel, ever since I have spent so much time with you, since you healed me, I have been taken with you, completely and absolutely." His eyes bore into mine. "I am in love with you."

I slapped a hand over my mouth. "Oh my goodness," I whispered into my hand.

He took a step closer to me and reached out his hands slowly. My body was frozen in place. He dropped his hands back to his side.

"When you spoke of a queen…I was, I was taken. If you would agree, if you could, would you please, be my queen?"

I shook my head and took my hand away. "No. No!"

His face distorted and turned downward.

"I cannot be your queen. I am a healer, not a noble woman of any sort. I cannot just be queen. Your father never would have approved and that is not what I want."

The look on his face was enough to break a man's heart. His mouth opened slightly, his eyes glassy and pained. His face wavered and black burns began to slither back into place.

"I am sorry, Thranduil," I said and meant it with all my soul. "But I just cannot."

With those words, I turned, spinning on my heel and rushed away, into the woods and away from the king.


End file.
